


When the sky falls(it looks remarkably like fireworks)

by MolestingMusic



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, M/M, No Smut, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Suicide, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:19:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MolestingMusic/pseuds/MolestingMusic
Summary: "What do you think it'd feel like to fly?"





	

There's this thing Ryan does - has always done - that makes Brendon worry. It's nothing that anybody else would notice, not really. Brendon sometimes wonders if he's too observant for his own good. Ryan lifts one corner of his mouth just barely, just enough for it to be seen, and his teeth clamp down on the other side, biting so hard that the flesh colours white, tiny blossoming specks of red interlaced under the skin. 

He's doing it now, and Brendon looks away hurriedly. It's such a tiny little gesture, but it means something devastating to Brendon. Ryan only ever does it when he's feeling like that again. 

Sometimes Brendon wishes he could tear out Ryan's teeth, just so that he couldn't bite his lip like that anymore. 

"Hey Brendon?" 

Brendon turns back to the boy sitting across from him, noticing that he's let go of his lip. 

"Hm?" Brendon acknowledges him, encouraging him to continue. 

Ryan holds off a moment, and Brendon can tell he's thinking hard about something. His hands fidget in his lap as though he doesn't quite know what to do with them until finally- 

"What do you think it'd feel like to fly?" 

Brendon sighs, staring down at Ryan. His best friend is lying, sprawled on his back in the grass and staring at the sky above them. Brendon sits beside him, one leg drawn up to his chin and the other lying flat. He ponders, not entirely sure how he's supposed to answer, and really, he's not so sure Ryan's looking for an answer. 

Slowly, he lies down beside Ryan and rests his hands on his stomach, watching as the clouds move at a steady pace above them. 

"Like freedom," Brendon answers finally, and Ryan nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer. 

-

 

Ryan hasn't been okay for a long time now. 

It's one of those things that everyone can see, but nobody really has the guts to come out and say it. Instead they'll just smile at him sympathetically and pretend that they know what he's going through when really, Brendon knows that they haven't got a fucking clue. Hell, not even Brendon knows the full story. 

They've been best friends for years. Brendon was the one Ryan told when he spotted a girl he thought was pretty. The person he told the day he jerked off for the first time. Brendon was the one to skip class with him when Ryan's having a bad day, the one who sits and listens and picks up the pieces as Ryan slowly falls apart. Brendon was the first person Ryan came out to when he discovered he was gay. 

It hurts Brendon to know that this is the one thing Ryan seems intent on keeping from him. 

-

 

Brendon's locker is two down from Ryan's, only one separating them. 

He knows that it's not like it means anything. The school didn't purposely shove a locker between them with any real intent, he knows that. But Brendon has always overanalysed things far too much, and ever since they received their assigned lockers, Brendon has hated the one in between them. It's always seemed to mock him, tell him that it didn't matter how close they were, there was always going to be something separating them. 

The feeling only got worse when Ryan... When Ryan got like this. 

Now, Brendon knows that Ryan is keeping things from him. And as he stands at his locker, angrily grabbing out textbooks and slamming it closed again, he hates the locker between them even more. 

-

 

"Ry, you know you can tell me anything, yeah?" 

Brendon regrets it as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Ryan is staring at him, a frown creasing his forehead and he's biting that fucking lip again. His eyes are blank, head cocked to the side, questioning. 

"What do you mean?" he asks, and Brendon knows damn well that Ryan understood exactly what he meant. 

He shifts his feet, directing his gaze to his fingernails and tries, tries so hard, not to make things even worse. He can't believe he said it. How many times has he sworn that he would leave Ryan alone? He makes it very clear that he doesn't want or need anybody's help, and Brendon knows that the best thing to do is just be there for him. He never wanted to hassle him, never wanted Ryan to feel like he was trying to force him into something he doesn't want. 

"I just... I want us to be able to... To be able to talk, you know?" 

He's digging himself an even deeper hole with every word, he knows. 

"We do talk, Bren," Ryan answers casually, dumping his bag in the foyer of his house as they make their way inside. Brendon's follows suit quickly, tugging off his shoes and following Ryan upstairs to his bedroom. 

He doesn't say anything else, and he knows that Ryan is thanking him for it, even if he doesn't say as much. 

They sprawl out on Ryan's bed on their backs, heads just touching and thighs rubbing together when either one of them moves. Brendon looks over to see that Ryan has his eyes closed and he sighs, wishing that Ryan would look that peaceful all the time. 

As quickly as the thought comes, Ryan's eyes are snapping open and he's staring at Brendon in shock, and maybe a little bit of annoyance. 

"Brendon?" 

Immediately, Brendon backs off, his head hitting the pillow again. "Sorry," he mutters, and they fall into silence again. Brendon can hear Ryan's breathing, softly in and out, and he wishes that there was something he could say that would just make it all go away. 

-

 

Ryan likes to watch when Brendon sleeps. For once, it makes him feel like he can be the one looking after Brendon, instead of the other way around. 

He knows how much Brendon worries about him, how much effort he puts into trying to make sure Ryan is okay. He appreciates it, he really does, only, he doesn't know how to tell Brendon that. He sees how much it hurts Brendon when Ryan shrugs off his questions and his attempts at reaching out to him, but he can't find it in himself to break down the barriers. 

He looks down at Brendon's sleeping form, his eyelashes painting ashen smudges on his cheeks and his lips parted just barely, allowing cool air to pass in and out of his body. Ryan's tongue darts out to moisten his lips that suddenly feel dry and he props himself up on his elbow on the bed. 

They'd fallen asleep like that, and to Ryan's relief, he'd woken up first. He's always hated it when Brendon woke up before him. He prefers to wait a while, watch Brendon sleep and just make everything stop for a little while. 

Eventually, Brendon will wake up, and Ryan will see the tired hurt in his eyes once more, but for now, they're okay. 

He leans down, holding his weight on his right elbow as he brushes his lips lightly over Brendon's. Letting his lips linger a little, Ryan finally pulls back, sighing and lying down again, rolling over so that he won't have to see how perfect his best friend is anymore. 

Brendon's eyelids flutter and he smiles, his index finger moving silently to touch his lips where Ryan kissed him. 

-

 

"When we finish school, I'm going to get in my car and drive as far away from here as I can." 

The words leave Ryan's lips with a hint of vehemency, a fierce determination that saddens Brendon. He looks over to where Ryan is staring at him intently, and he shakes his head. He doesn't even need to say anything to get his message across. They both know that in the end, they'll both still be sitting in the same spot years from now, wondering what went wrong. 

"You'll come with me, won't you Brendon?" Ryan continues anyway, and with a weak smile, Brendon nods. 

"Of course I will." 

He listens half-heartedly as Ryan talks animatedly about where they'll go and how they'll start a band and meet all these amazing people. It can't hurt to entertain the fantasy. 

-

 

At seventeen, Brendon should be thinking about girls and partying and friends and the next time he's going to be so off his face he won't remember it. 

At seventeen, Brendon is not supposed to be thinking about how to save his best friend. 

The marks appear out of nowhere, almost, and they sicken Brendon to the stomach. He sees them by accident as Ryan reaches up on his toes to get the cereal from the top shelf of the cupboard. His heart drops to his knees and he feels like he's about to fall over. 

And then Ryan is looking at him, a questioning tilt of the head and a puzzled frown. He's standing back flat on the heels of his feet, his shirt slipping back down to cover the hips that had previously been exposed, the cereal box in his hand. 

"Are you okay?" 

Brendon blinks, forces his eyes to meet Ryan's and not stray back to Ryan's waist. He can still see them there so vividly, even though the material now covers them. He swallows hard, smiles, helps Ryan find bowls and spoons. 

"Yeah, fine." 

-

 

The first time they kiss properly, it's back on Ryan's bed, music filtering softly out of the CD player. 

They had been back to their usual routine of lying on Ryan's bed and talking until exhaustion overcame them and Brendon had let his eyes close. This time, it's somehow even more of a surprise when he hears Ryan shift beside him. He keeps his eyes closed, wondering whether Ryan will kiss him again, but then he hears him speak. 

"I'm sorry, Brendon. So sorry for everything," he whispers, and Brendon feels his heart break. 

He opens his eyes and Ryan's widen in shock, lips working hard and fast to cover up and apologise, but Brendon isn't having it. He shakes his head, grabbing Ryan's hand in his own and hushing him until Ryan finally settles down. 

"Don't ever be sorry for who you are," Brendon answers, and it's then that he leans forward, kisses Ryan softly, a hidden promise that he's never going to be angry at Ryan, ever. 

-

 

It's late Fall, and Brendon has Ryan pinned below him on Brendon's bed, kissing him furiously. His fingers run down Ryan's clothed chest, dancing below the hem and slipping under the material softly. Wanting, needing to see more, he tugs the shirt up, and for the first time, Ryan protests. 

"Brendon, don't--" 

There's a hint of panic to his tone that has Brendon sitting up abruptly, staring down at his boyfriend in surprise. 

"I... Ryan, what...?" 

It's not like Ryan has ever stopped him before. Ryan blushes, shaking his head and closing his eyes. Brendon makes another move to take Ryan's shirt off, not in the pursuit of sexual gratification, but wanting to know what exactly made Ryan stop. 

This time, the other boy doesn't say a word, letting Brendon pull the shirt over his head and throw it to the floor. Brendon stares at the expanse of skin before him, and he clenches his fingers into fists to stop himself from screaming and crying and breaking something all at once. 

There's marks, so many marks. More than there was all those months ago, when Brendon first saw them in the kitchen. He's had Ryan shirtless plenty of times since then and to his relief, they had disappeared from what he could see. 

But here they were, angry red gashes staring his straight in the face again, worse than before. 

Ryan is shaking below him, and when Brendon looks up, he sees that he's crying. Carefully, Brendon runs the pads of his fingers over the cuts, not saying a word. 

"I'm sorry, Brendon..." Ryan says quietly, choking back more tears. Brendon silences him with a kiss, his fingers still caressing Ryan's skin and trying to soothe the hurt, make the cuts vanish under his touch. 

"I told you never to be sorry," he answers against Ryan's lips before rolling to the side and tucking his face into Ryan's neck, one arm curling around Ryan's waist to pull him closer. 

He waits until Ryan is asleep before he lets the tears come. 

-

 

Neither of them mentions it again, and the next time Brendon gets Ryan's shirt off, there's only scars marking the skin. He breathes a sigh of relief and kisses the scars tenderly, thankful that there aren't any more recent gashes. 

-

 

For a while, Ryan is happy. Happier than Brendon has ever seen him. He's smiling, talking, kissing Brendon whenever he feels like before he pulls away giggling.   
Brendon watches as he skips down the path on their way home from school, and he can't help but laugh at the way Ryan seems so carefree. It feels like forever since the last time he saw Ryan like this, and he drinks it all in eagerly. 

Ryan kisses him again, and to Brendon's annoyance, it tastes bitter, as though a warning of everything to come. He pushes it away, fills his head and his heart with the sound of Ryan's laughter once more, and tries to forget that there was ever a time he worried for Ryan's safety. 

-

 

"Sing me something, Brendon," Ryan pleads, his guitar in his hands. 

He's just finished showing Brendon a new piece he came up with, and now he's staring up at Brendon with those eyes, pouting his lips and using everything in his power to make Brendon give in. Shaking his head, Brendon refuses. 

"I don't know what to sing anyway," he reasons, but Ryan isn't having it.   
With a devilish grin, Ryan opens his mouth and sings a few lines to a familiar song, tugging on Brendon's heartstrings. 

"Sing me something soft, sad and delicate, or loud and out of key... Sing me anything." 

Brendon hates it when he's adorable. 

With a sigh of defeat, he sits down beside Ryan and begins to hum a tune, losing himself in the melody before he opens his mouth and closes his eyes, singing Ryan everything he wants to hear. 

"I love you too, Bren," Ryan whispers when he's finished, and Brendon blinks rapidly in confusion. 

He... How did he... What? 

But Ryan's smiling at him, and Brendon can't help but kiss him. He doesn't need to return the phrase. They both know... Have always known. 

-

 

It's unexpected. 

He had been so convinced that everything was finally okay, that Ryan was happy. The switch is so sudden he's not ready for it, and Brendon is left jolted. 

"Hey Ry, wanna come around to mine after school?" 

Ryan glances at him, his face blank. "I don't think so," he answers stonily, and Brendon is taken aback. 

"I uh... Okay," he replies finally, and Ryan pushes past him to get to his next class without another word. 

Brendon waits in the hall, trying to work out exactly when Ryan died again. 

-

 

His hands hover over the phone, receiver held to his ear and fingers poised and ready to punch in the number, only, he stops. Brendon doesn't even know what exactly he's planning on saying, but he feels the need to try something. 

If he has to watch Ryan spiral again, he doesn't think he can handle it. 

His fingers jab the buttons, pressing in the familiar number until at the last digit, he hesitates, and places the receiver back on the cradle. 

-

 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

It's like Ryan's a broken record, doomed for eternity to repeat the same line over and over, day in, day out. Or at least that's how it feels to Brendon. 

He hasn't heard anything other than the same dreaded phrase for days, weeks now, and it's starting to bother him. Any time he tries to establish contact, he's pushed away, and Ryan seems to be blocking him out even more than he did before. 

Brendon doesn't know what he did wrong, but even more so, he doesn't know how to fix it. 

-

 

Ryan wants to disappear. That's all he ever really wanted. 

-

 

The wind is whistling through his hair, and he feels decidedly content. He can't remember feeling like that in a while, and it's nice, after so long. 

There's no one around, and that's even better, really. He closes his eyes and smiles, thinks of a conversation from long ago. 

"What do you think it'd feel like to fly?" 

"Like freedom..." 

This, this is freedom, this is flying. 

-

 

When it's reported on the news that a teenage boy flung himself from a twenty-story building, it's almost like it's not real. 

No one thought that Brendon would be the one to crack first.


End file.
